There are things you can't deny
by FrancescaBoscorelli
Summary: After her relationship with Sherlock changed dramatically, Joan never imagined a night out with an old friend would help her realize her true feelings for him. I suck at summaries. Read/Review.


**A/N**: **Hi! its me again. I wrote another Joanlock fic because of reasons. This has absolutely NOTHING to do with my other stories, this is not part of my "Moments" series. That being said, I have no freaking clue how I came up with this fic, the only thing I know is that I should be writing my thesis instead of this BUT I couldn't stop thinking about it for days! I had to do this first and then other stuff LOL (priorities, I know). **

**Last but not least, I want to say thank you to a wonderful WONDERFUL friend; Lily, who is the greatest friend ever and she's my beta and she sweet and kind and all kinds of perfect. I LOVE YOU LILY! go read her stories EuphoriaLily**

* * *

Joan hardly ever went out. That was more a fact than a statement that she could disagree with. At first she blamed it on her job; although it was half the truth. Her first job as a doctor left her too exhausted to have fun, so every minute of her free time she spend on sleeping or watching with her other job as a sober companion she couldn't leave her client alone with her or his misery while she had fun with her friends, and thus she never went out.

Now things had changed. She didn't want to go out because she loved her job, and she took every moment they didn't have a case as an opportunity to learn something new. Then there was the awesome company which was always a plus.

But today. Today was different. A week ago everything about their relationship had changed, they were not the same anymore and even though she had accepted, mentally at least, that at some point it would happen, she'd never thought it would be that way and so soon. So now she could use going out as her time to clear her head and forget about Sherlock. Even if that sounded completely impossible.

So when Emily called and told her their old friend Charlie was coming to town and she wanted to see her, she didn't say no. In fact she was eager and excited to leave the Brownstone for a couple of hours. Probably stay out all night too.

She stared at the mirror for the tenth time, making sure her make-up was okay and her dress was not wrinkled. The dark red lipstick Emily had given to her matched the color of her dress, and even though she wasn't exactly fan of that particular color she thought she could use that bit of a change.  
At least for the night.

She heard a soft knock on the door and her stomach twisted inside. Suddenly she felt anxious and nervous, she couldn't quite understand why though, it wasn't like she was trying to impress him in any way possible, and yet her hand immediately rested on her chest to calm her speeding heart.

"Watson, your friend is here." she heard him speak.

"I'll be there in a minute." she replied and even though she didn't hear him speak she knew he was still there, waiting for her to come out.

When she did, a couple of minutes later, she thought her mind was deceiving her when she saw him glaring her from head to toe, to then settle his eyes on her for a brief second before clearing his throat and smile briefly.

"You…you look good." Sherlock spoke. She looked down at her simmering strapless mini red dress and smiled.

"Thank you." she told him. They stood in silence for a brief moment, until she noticed him shifting uncomfortable on his spot.

"Have fun." he simply said and even though he tried to speak with a small hint of joy, he didn't succeed.

"I will." she replied.

Joan walked pass him and she noticed how he followed her with his eyes and then for a fraction off a second she thought he would stop her, maybe beg her to stay but that moment never came.

* * *

'The night is young,' Emily told her when she complained about how late it was. It made her stop midway when she was about to say she wanted to go home.

Truth was that she wasn't tired, she wasn't bored either, but she missed him. The minute they sat foot into the club all her insides gave an inexplicable and sudden turn, her chest felt tight she felt ridiculously out of place. Maybe going out hadn't been a very good idea after all. But most of all she missed him, which was odd since they saw each other every single day.

She couldn't stop feeling homesick throughout the entire night, despite the amiable conversation with her long lost friend she hadn't seen in years and all the compliments she had received because of her dress (though the only one she cared about was the one she had received at home).

"Are you okay, Joanie?" Charlie asked her. Joan contemplated whether she should tell her the truth or not. "You're awfully quiet."

"I'm okay, just a bit tired."

"So, how's working as a sober companion coming along?" Charlie asked.

"Joanie here is no longer a sober companion." Emily spoke, smiling at their friends as she spoke.

"Our friend is now a detective." It was odd to hear her talking so eagerly about her work since she was the first one who had been against it.

"You are?" Charlie asked her, immediately fascinated by what her friend was telling her.

"Well, not exactly a detective." Joan explained. "My friend and I work as consultants for the police."

"But she does solve cases, like with murders and all." Emily spoke.

"Yeah, a few…"

"That sounds so fantastic."

"It is." Joan said and grinned at her friend.

"Who's the other person you work with?" Charlie asked her.

Joan couldn't help but sigh, too loudly for her own taste, when her friend asked her about Sherlock. She wished she could control her emotions when it came to him, but even she couldn't understand her sudden feelings.

Emily eyed her strangely but Joan decided to ignore her.

"Sherlock Holmes, he was my last client. He used work as a consultant for Scotland Yard before coming to NY." Joan told her. "I worked with him, then when my time was due he asked me to stay and work with him as a consultant. So here I am."

When she finished talking she noticed that Emily was still eyeing her suspiciously. She wondered if it was written in her face, her emotions when she spoke about him. Maybe she could read her; they had been friends for a long time after all.

"Did something happen with Sherlock?" Emily asked her finally.

"No." Joan responded, too quickly. Emily frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been acting weird since we left your house. Besides the fact that you've been staring at your phone non-stop."

She did. Only because Sherlock usually called every five minutes or texted every five seconds, and he hadn't done that the last hour.

"Nothing happened."

"Liar." her friend stated. "Are you uncomfortable because he hasn't called? Did you guys argue about something?

"We didn't argue…" Joan told her.

"Then it is about Sherlock."

"Emily…"

"Something did happen. I order you to tell me what it is." Emily told her quickly.

"You can't order me." Joan protested.

"I'm your best friend, I think I have the right. Now spill."

Joan knew that no matter how many times she would try to avoid the subject, or avoid talking to Emily, she would never stop asking. If not now she would later, either way she would never let it go.

"You can trust us." Charlie told her.

"It's not about trust." Joan replied. "It's just that I…I'm having a hard time dealing with it."

"Was it that bad?" Charlie asked her.

"No." Joan spoke and bit her lower lip not to smile while she thought about it. She would most definitely not define it as bad, she would use another word. "Not bad at all."

"Then what is it?" Emily asked.

"We slept together." Joan said, quickly avoiding her friend's inquisitive gaze.

"What? When? Oh my god, Joanie, I can't believe it. How did _tha_t happen? Wait. Don't tell me. No, wait. Do tell me." Emily eagerly spoke. To Joan's amazement her friend was more excited than she ever had been. "How many times did you guys do it?"

"I'm not gonna give you any details." Joan told her. "I don't wanna talk about my sex life with you."

"Yes, you do. You always talk about your sex life with me so, spill. Was he good? How many times did you do it? Is he gentle or rather rough?"

"What? No. I'm suddenly very terrified at how excited you are with this…"

"How can I not? This is Sherlock Holmes. He's British." Emily said as she turned around and spoke to Charlie who was equally interested in her friend's romantic adventures.

"Oh British, please tell us more" Charlie asked her, suddenly as eager to know everything as Emily was.

"Well, there's nothing more to tell." Joan responded. "It happened…"

"I want details." Emily demanded. "Now give them."

"I'm not gonna do that. No."

"Why not? Oh, was he that bad? That's why you don't want to talk about it?"

"No, he was perfect." Joan replied, playing with the half empty glass in her hands. "He was sweet, tender and…just perfect. His hands were soft and warm."

"Aww." both women said at the same time.

"But it will never happen again, that is a fact." Joan concluded.

"How did it happen?" Now it was Charlie's turn to ask.

"We were in the middle of a particularly difficult case." Joan explained. "We were very frustrated because we were having a hard time solving it and then we started talking and then one thing led to the other, so we ended up in his bed having sex. That's all. We both agree that after those times it would never happen again."

"Times? As in more than one?" Emily questioned her. Joan couldn't help but blush. "How many times did you do it?"

"Emily, I'm not…"

"Yes, you are, 'cause I won't stop asking."

"Four." Joan answered quickly and her cheeks turned crimson pink.

"You did it four times? Four times in one night?" Emily asked, visibly surprised.

"So as you mentioned before you two are friends…Then how and why is never going to happen again?" Charlie asked changing the subject after noticing how uncomfortable Joan was.

"That's exactly why. Sherlock and I are friends, we've been for a long time and what happened between us was…just a thing." Joan spoke. She tried not to sound sad, or even disappointed, but she was afraid her face would give everything away.

"Well, you certainly seem too conflicted for it to be just a thing." Charlie told her. She was always the one to reason about everything, she was known to be the voice of reason among them and she was also the only one to give advices she could listen to.

"I'm conflicted because we're friends. I'm conflicted because it wasn't supposed to happen and it did and now everything is awkward between us."

"Or maybe you're conflicted because you like him." Charlie told her, Emily just nodded in agreement. "Or maybe you don't really like him, maybe you even love him."

"Oh yeah. I'm sure that's it." Emily continued.

"I'm not in love with him." Joan responded.

"Wait. Is that why you agreed to go out with us?" Emily questioned her.

"No. I told you I wanted to spend some time with you guys. It's been a long time since we went out." she lied.

"No…you agreed because you were hoping to meet someone, maybe hook up that way you would forget about what happened between you and Sherlock, because…oh my god you ARE in love with him!" It wasn't a statement, it wasn't a lie she could point out, it wasn't something she could argue about.

Emily knew the truth Joan had been trying so hard to ignore; she loved him. She knew that from the day he laid his hands on her naked body and his lips moved against her own. But she also knew that love was only hers, he would never feel the same.

"No, I'm not." she lied again.

"Yes, you are. It's written all over your face, Joanie." Emily told her.

"Honey, there's nothing wrong with being in love." Charlie spoke. "There's nothing wrong with being in love with a friend either. In fact best relationships start as friendship and then gradually grow into something equally beautiful."

"But what if he doesn't feel the same…" Joan asked her. She had never had the time to analyze her feelings towards Sherlock, and obviously she hadn't analyzed his either, too busy regretting that night.

"Oh, he does, trust me." Emily said.

"How can you be so certain he does?"

"You told me yourself how methodical and unpredictable Sherlock was, right?" Emily spoke. "He would have never let anything happen between you two unless he knew it would lead to something else."

"So what are you saying? He planned this?" Joan questioned her, a little bit shocked at what her friend was implying.

"Of course not. No one plans to fall in love." Emily commented. "What I'm saying he would never risk your friendship unless he knew it would lead to something important, you mean too much to him."

"Do you really think he loves me?" Joan asked her. Charlie had a hopeful look on her face, the one that told her that he probably was, even though she knew nothing about their history together.

"I think he does, but that's just me saying it. I'm not inside his mind, I think this is for you to find out." Emily told her.

* * *

When Joan got home, a little past midnight, she found Sherlock sitting by the fireplace, on the floor nose deep into a book. Joan took the opportunity of him not aware of her presence to stare at his features; the way he bit his lower lips as he read or how a frown adorned his forehead when he was in deep concentration, the way his fingers moved across every page…

For a fraction of a second her mind drifted to the night they had spent together. If she closed her eyes long enough she could still feel his hand travelling over her body, how they moved skillfully, making her moan with pleasure.

"Watson, you're home." Sherlock interrupted her thoughts. He watched her from his position on the floor, seemed completely uninterested in her presence there though the way his eyes travelled up and down her body told her otherwise. "How was your night? Did you have fun?"

"Yeah…yeah, I did." she told him. "Did you?"

"Oh yes. Good time." he told her, showing the old worn out book on his hands

"Well, I'm going to bed…" she spoke as she slowly turned around towards the stairs.

"Did you meet someone?" he suddenly asked. The slight desperation in his voice surprised her more than the question itself. She turned around to face him, when he noticed the confusion on her face he looked down at his hands, ashamed. "Sorry. I'm just curious."

"You want to know if I hooked up with someone?" she questioned him. He slowly got up from the floor and took two short steps towards her. She felt nervous at his presence all of a sudden.

"Yes. I can't help but wonder." he questioned and glared at her as he waited for her answer. She sighed heavily and Sherlock noticed how uncomfortable she was with his inquiry.

"I didn't." she said. "If you're worried about me meeting another man you'll be happy to know I can't and won't, even if I wanted to."

She let the last words sink in for a few seconds, minutes even, part of her desperate to know what his reaction was going to be. But after a while he didn't flinch, nor did he speak and immediately made her believe he didn't care much. He was probably worried that whatever game he was playing with her would end the minute she met someone else.

"Well, now that you got the information you needed, I'm going to bed." she continued and just like she did before, she turned around and made her way towards the stairs, determined to stay as far away from him as possible.

"I do care." he spoke suddenly. Unlike the last time she didn't turn around. She remained in her position while he spoke. "I don't want you to believe otherwise. Whatever happens with you will always concern me, especially of involves – someone else."

He felt him take two short strides towards her and stand just a few feet away from her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her heart beat faster inside her cheat at his proximity; as if it was something she could no longer control. Ever since their night together getting a hold of her emotions seemed like an every day ordeal.

"You can call me selfish." he whispered, the warmth of his breath against her head sent shivers down her spine. "But I don't want any other man to ever press his lips against yours, or lay his hands on your body. I don't want anyone to touch the way I did a few days ago."

She swallowed hard when she felt his hands slowly gravitating towards her bare arms, causing her to catch her breath and close her eyes at his touch.

"I'm not yours to play with." Joan whispered and tried as hard as she could for her words to sound harsh, but his body now fully against her back made everything difficult.

"This isn't a game, my dear Joan." he told her. "It has never been, never will be. It is so much more. We could be so much more…"

The last words made her turn around; now facing him she could immediately read the honesty in his face. He wanted this, them, as much she did and there was no question about it now.

"Us, together, is not a coincidence." he continued, his hand momentarily leaving her arm to caress the side of her face. She closed her eyes one more time when his fingertips reached her lips. "It was meant to happen, but it can only be possible if you want it as well."

She took a moment to process the question and the situation, reminding herself after that night when their relationship changed, she felt scared she had turned into his toy to be used whenever he pleased. And then she remembered how much she had longed for his touch again, for just one chance to make that moment happens again.

Now he was expressing his desire for that to be more than just sex.

She knew the answer before the question was even asked.

"Yes." she whispered. "Yes, I want to."

He nodded at her response; a small smile appeared on his face, making her smile as well.

The kiss they shared next was so much unlike the one their shared a few night ago; that one was rough and passionate. It had just been lust and desire that had driven them to sleep together. Compared to their first one this was sweet, gentle, full of love (maybe) and they had both been too busy proving how much they cared about one another instead of taking their clothes off.

They had made it clear they wanted more, and right now it was all it mattered.

He pulled away when air became necessary and stood there just enjoying each other's warmth.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look in this dress?" Sherlock told her, Joan smiled in return.

"You did, yes."

"I hope you don't mind me saying it again; you look beautiful."

"Well, thank you, I thought you might like it." she responded.

"Yes I do. I think red is now my favourite colour."

"I bet it is" she said and smiled as he leaned in again to kiss her one more time.

**THE END!**

**DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! **


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